Something vivid yet fleeting had shot through his brain--something that he tried to catch and analyse, but it was gone before he could grasp its significance.

He looked with new interest upon this serene, lovable little chap, who was growing up, like all princes, in the shadow of disaster.
Suddenly the fisherman's quick little ears caught a sound that caused him to reveal a no-uncertain agitation.

He dropped his rod incontinently and crawled to the opening in the shrubbery, peering with alarmed eyes down the path along the bank.
"What is it?
A dynamiter ?" demanded Truxton uneasily.
"Worse'n that," whispered his royal Highness.

"It's Aunt Loraine.

Gee!" To King's utter dismay, the Prince scuttled for the underbrush.
"Here!" he called in consternation.